Summer's Lease

We're packing up the little gateaux and heading out on Long Island for a week of relaxing at the beach, which has me in a lather about what to bring for the kitchen. The house we're renting is actively used by the owners, but I don't know how they stock their pantry, and I don't want to spend my first day running around buying items I have plenty of at home and will only use a little of. So I'm planning to stick a box of essentials in the back of the minivan. The list so far:

• olive oil
• balsamic and wine vinegar
• soy sauce
• fish sauce
• red curry paste
• worcestershire sauce
• A-1 steak sauce

I figure out I can flavor up practically anything with that stuff. But any other suggestions?

Bacon in Jamaica, Part 3

By Day 3 we had really settled into the swing of things, and had our sleeping, swimming, sunning, eating and drinking routine down pat. I went for a morning walk with Pam up the hill before it got too hot, and that was lovely, plus, you know, justification for the eating to come. We got back for breakfast, which included more of the delicious sliced fruit, fried plantains, assorted breads, pancakes (very good ones, with nice crispy edges) with maple syrup, BACON, and scrambled eggs. Coffee, of course, and lots of it.

We then hit the beach, and were delighted to find that we were the only ones on it. After all the sunning and novel-reading we could stand, we headed back to the house for lunch. On the terrace we enjoyed a delicious tuna salad with sweet and hot peppers, which had a terrific bite, served with green salad with balsamic dressing and breads and rolls. With that we had more of the strong iced tea with lime and for dessert the leftover birthday cake from our first night, which was still fantastic.

After more sunbathing and napping we headed up to the Great House for afternoon tea. Not a spectacular spread, but we had little sandwiches and cookies and a cup of tea, and then checked out the wares in the gallery featuring local arts and crafts. After that, well, it was time for a drink, so we made it to the Beach Bar just before closing and got another pina colada under our belts (or Red Stripe, or strawberry daquiri, whatever your pleasure). It was a beautiful setting, and we walked out on a pier to the gazebo and looked back at the beach and the house, with a view up to Montego Bay.

Once we were back at the house it was, you guessed it, time for more eating. We fixed ourselves cocktails (I had local overproof rum with diet Pepsi -- in a small glass bottle, and why does soda always taste better from a small glass bottle? -- and lime) and Rhon served us some hors d'oeuvres of leftover jerk pork and vegetable wraps cut into rounds. So glad that pork did not go to waste! We watched a really spectacular sunset from the terrace. Eventually we moved onto dinner, which was spicy vegetable soup, salad with Caesar dressing, and a Thai-influenced spicy shrimp dish over fettuccine. The shrimp were really nicely cooked. Wine, of course. For dessert we had coconut creme brulee, which wasn't the chef's most accomplished dish -- it was a bit runny -- but tasty. We rolled ourselves to the living room, where Meg and I were the last ones standing. It reminded me of when we were kids and would stay up at sleepovers chatting half the night.

* * *

The next morning felt a little bittersweet, because our ride to the airport was scheduled for about 2pm, and time was running out. To fortify ourselves, we had a hearty breakfast following coffee on the terrace. This time we started with a platter of sauteed callaloo and tomatoes, plus fried plantains, and a platter of sliced fruit. As we were eating that and the plate of BACON, Rhon came around to take orders for eggs. I asked for a poached egg, and ended up creating a sort of Caribbean eggs Florentine by layering toast with the tomato and callaloo and topping with the egg, which was a fabulous combination.

We organized our packing and then headed to the beach for one last time. I floated around in the water and tried to memorize the exact feeling of being there surrounded by the warmth and the water and the sound of the waves. But all things have to come to an end, and so it was time to head back to the villa for lunch. It's hard for me to admit that this was my favorite of all our meals, but loyal Cookiestuffs readers won't really be surprised. Rhon laid out a nice big salad with Greek dressing and then brought out a big platter of crispy, spicy fried chicken fingers and more of those fantastic fries we'd had previously. I cut the chicken into bites and incorporated it into the salad, and it was so tasty and filling. With that we had more iced tea with lime, and it is possible that a few last Red Stripes were consumed.

And that was it. We got our ride to the airport, hoping for a quick check-in (it was the off-season, after all) only to find the departures hall crammed with travelers and some fans lackadaisically stirring the humid air. To entertain ourselves, we tried to figure out the significance of a sign in the line-up area stating PLANE HELPFUL with an arrow pointing nowhere. In the concourse I got myself a final ginger beer and Meg bought some Blue Mountain coffee. The flight itself was uneventful, save for an attack of hysterics when the nice flight attendant came by with dinner, repeatedly asking "Will you have chicken for dinner? We're out of fish." And if you don't see why this is funny, you can't come with us next time.

Bacon in Jamaica, Day 2

The spot where I found Nirvana

A smattering of drinks

Massages in progress

Lunch is served on the terrace

Day 2 began in about as perfect a manner as I can imagine. We got up at our leisure (none of us is constitutionally capable of sleeping late, due to children and dogs getting us up routinely early) and wandered, or should I say staggered out to the terrace. One of the glass-topped tables was set for breakfast, complete with carafes of coffee at the ready. We filled our cups and sat in one of the conversation areas on the terrace just taking in the beauty of it all.

When breakfast was ready, the little bell rang and called us to the table. On a sideboard were assorted cereals and fresh-squeezed orange juice. Rhon came out and served us delicious, chewy French toast with maple syrup, and a stunning platter of fruits, including drop-dead succulent juicy mango. As if this weren't enough, a second course arrived, consisting of an omelette with sweet peppers and a platter of bacon and Canadian bacon. This made two consecutive meals featuring pork products, a very good start to the vacation.

We spent the morning on the beach, sunning and chatting, reading books and swimming in the crystal clear, warm water. Anne and I spent some quality time out on one of the giant trampoline-floats, talking and jumping around.

And then it was time to eat again!

Lunch on the terrace was chicken club sandwiches, very well seasoned, with a big bowl of perfectly crispy French fries, and a pitcher of very strong iced tea served with lime. This prepared us for our next taxing activity: massages out on the terrace of the villa's west wing, overlooking the turquoise water. We went in twos, and those of us not being massaged at that moment enjoyed another platter of fresh fruit.

Following my massage I spent one of the most blissed-out hours of my life. I threw on a sundress and plunked myself on a chaise under a tree at the back of the villa, steps away from the water. With Great Big Sea singing drinking songs and sea chanteys (Newfoundland Celtic folk-rock is a strangely nice fit in the Caribbean, and less obvious than the incessant Bob Marley, not that there's anything wrong with that) on my iPod, and a Red Stripe in my hand, the waves gently lapping on the shore, the afternoon sun on my legs and the warm breeze flowing over me, my mind was perfectly at peace, my body felt like jelly, and I could have stayed like that forever.

But forever is a long time, and we had drinking to do! So we put ourselves together (we clean up nice!) and headed in the golf cart up to the Great House for cocktails. Hors d'oeuvres were advertised, but this turned out to be a few pieces of sausage bites. Not to worry, we enjoyed our drinks (I had a dark rum with ginger beer and lime) and the sunset, and then headed back to the villa for dinner.

We began with pea (bean) soup, then a salad with balsamic vinaigrette. The main course, served buffet style, was a chicken breast stuffed with tropical vegetables and fruits -- probably callalloo, plantains, papaya, and mango, with a nicely spiced citrus sauce, and served with mashed potatoes and fresh vegetables. Of course we had wine, and of course we brought the rest of the bottle out to the living room, where we chit chatted and gossiped until bedtime.

Just another day in Jamaica.

Bacon in Jamaica, Day 1

The Beach Bar

View from the Terrace





View from the Beach

First of all, thanks to Meg for the title.

Due to my friend Pam's excellent foresight in choosing a spouse, My friends Pam, Meg, Anne and I had access to a stunning and luxurious villa in Jamaica for a long weekend to celebrate an upcoming Very Special Birthday. I will not go into any greater detail on that matter.

Having departed New York at the crack of dawn, we arrived at the villa in time for lunch. We didn't have much settling in to do, because the excellent staff took care of all that. First, Pam sat down with the house staff to discuss menus for our visit. Pork products were stressed. Then we changed into light clothing and headed to the beach cafe. We started with a round of Ting soda, sort of a sugary Fresca, just to get the blood sugar flowing. I had a salad with papaya and curried shrimp that immediately got me into the Caribbean mood. Anne had the same, Pam had an Asian chicken salad, and Meg had a terrific looking club sandwich that not only contained bacon but also a fried egg, with fries.

After that, we hit the beach. And here I can say I wholeheartedly recommend visiting the Caribbean in the off-season. The beach and the resort's bars and restaurants were quiet, but not entirely empty, so there was no jockeying for a lounge chair or a table. It was pure, unadulterated relaxation. One morning we had the beach all to ourselves. It was bliss. That afternoon we enjoyed frozen drinks at the beach bar -- your pina colada, your strawberry daquiri, your gin rickey. I will simply say that the bartenders did not pour with a light hand.

We followed this with Red Stripe on the terrace at the villa while dinner was being prepared.

After relaxing at the villa's pool, we heard for the first time the sound that we came to know and love so well during our time there -- the sound of the bell calling us to the table.

Dinner began with conch soup, which was creamy but had a nice spicy bite. We then had a simple salad served with a homemade ranch dressing. I'm not usually a ranch fan, but this was all natural and thus didn't taste like sour glue with a few herbs in it. Next, the main course was laid out buffet-style -- a fabulously juicy and spicy jerk pork tenderloin, with carrots, stringbeans, rice and beans, and fried plantains. I'm sure we had red wine with this, because I don't think we ever turned down red wine. After we'd done major damage to the jerk pork, we were surprised with a birthday cake arranged by Pam's mother-in-law, served with champagne. The cake was strongly flavored with vanilla, and tasted sweet and warm and just like a birthday cake should.

After dinner we collapsed in the open-air living room, leafed through magazines, finished our drinks, and gabbed. We've been friends since forever, and what's really nice about that is (1) you never run out of things to talk about and (2) if you do, nobody minds just sitting silently and companionably until it's time to talk again.

Then we slept the sleep of the just, while our husbands took care of the kids and/or our fathers looked after our dogs.

Eating Vancouver, Part the Third

OK, so Lumiere. Once per trip, Mr. Gateau and I try to treat ourselves to a really special evening out, and often that means we go to the lovely and thoughtful Bishop's in Kits. However, Mr. Gateau had often spoked glowingly of the vegetarian tasting menu he'd eaten years before at Lumiere, which as far as I can tell, is basically the French Laundry of Vancouver.

Even fine dining in Vancouver tends to the west coast casual, though Lumiere is the tiniest bit more dressed up in atmosphere. Still, you would not feel out of place in jeans, and there is not a whiff of pretentiousness, even though everyone there knows that Rob Feenie can cook the pants off of most anyone.

They offer an a la carte menu, a seven-course chef's or vegetarian menu, and the total decadence overload of the ten-course "signature" menu. At $180 a person, plus the fact that we thought we might explode if we attempted it, we decided to go for the more than enticing chef's menu, and wisely skipped cocktails and went right for the wine, a local Chardonnay. While we were kicking these important issues around, we were served a dish of lovely gougeres. I will note for the record that of the six on the plate, Mr. Gateau "forgot" that he was only entitled to three, and took one of mine.

Then we began. Because a mere seven courses plus gougeres might leave us starving to death, we first were served an amuse-bouche of heirloom tomato soup, which was more or less the best cup of tomato juice you ever ate. Then our first official course arrived: scallop tartare with a tiny amount of fresh jalapeno and caviar. We both agreed that this was utterly divine, even though Mr. Gateau is not a huge shellfish fan.

Next up was a ravioli stuffed with luscious short rib of beef, in a wild mushroom and truffle consomme. You'd think this would be a little heavy for midsummer, but it was just meaty enough, while remaining light in texture and tasted of the woods. Phenomenal.

The fish course was a knockout -- pan seared Arctic char with grainy mustard risotto, peas, morels, and a red wine reduction. The skin on the fish was incredibly crispy and the risotto is something I now dream of (I'm going to attempt it tonight, though what I really need to do is buy Rob Feenie's cookbook in the hope the recipe is in there).

Instead of duck or red meat in the meat course (both duck and lamb were on the signature menu, and that was what really tempted me about it), this menu has a combination of butter-poached lobster and Redbro chicken breast cooked two ways, with parsnip puree, caramelized cauliflower, candied walnuts, and truffles. I wasn't that excited about this, and still don't quite see how the lobster and chicken work together, but every element on that plate was perfectly prepared. I don't think I've ever enjoyed a piece of chicken so much.

By then we could see our limits in sight, but next up was cheese. Each of us was given a little form with the available cheeses listed, with short descriptions, and told to pick three each. We decided to pool resources, and I think we did a great job, especially as we tend to go for the more pungent offerings, but we tried for a good range of styles. That was served with paper-thin chewy slices of fruit-studded bread.

For dessert, the menu offered a chocolate and beet fondant with pepper ice cream, aged balsamic-macerated strawberries, and beet raspberry coulis. That was ideal for the chocolate fiend Mr. Gateau, but I had my eye on one of the signature menu offerings, and they had no problem making the substitution for me: apricot and lavender millefeuille with vanilla poached apricots, almond pastry, manjari chocolate and lavender parfait. That was killer. Those flavors came together just perfectly for me. That, and an espresso capped it.

But wait! God forbid we stop eating, a two-tiered display of creative, beautiful, and delicious candies and petit fours were presented. So we did our best, but sadly we had to leave some over. Human beings have their limits. I can't imagine how anyone completes the signature menu, but I aim to find out some day.

Eating Vancouver, Part the Second

On Monday we joined friends at the Parkside restaurant in the West End. The restaurant, which features slightly Italian-inflected modern cooking, offers four courses, and you can choose prix fixe options of all four courses or any three. After pretending that we might be delicate flowers, we gave up the pretense after a cocktail and went for the four course option. We were seated outside on the lovely patio, though we had to move inside for dessert due to noise regulations barring occupancy of the patio after 10pm. So civilized, those Canadians.

For cocktails, I chose not to go fruity, for once, and had their Buckeye Martini, which is a nice take on the Dirty Martini. This is frozen vodka served in a glass rimmed with lemon salt, and served with a side of "gourmet" olives. There was also wine, but frankly I drank too much of it to remember many of the details.

My first course was seared scallops with pea puree, sherry vinegar caramel, and micro greens. Mr. Gateau had the foie gras terrine special, which was introduced as the chef's "signature dish." I followed with a lobster and sweet corn risotto and got to taste the wonderful gorgonzola ravioli that the friend next to me had. For a main course I had a superb New Zealand veal chop that was lemony and flavorful, which also marks the first time I've ever chosen to eat veal in the presence of Mr. Gateau, who usually spoils the mood by rolling his eyes and sighing ostentatiously. He was seated at the other end of the table, and by then it was dark anyway.

For dessert, we decided to share several options, including the cheese plate. We also had pink grapefruit sorbet with grapefruit sections and vanilla sauce, and poached apricots with almond cake and cinnamon ice cream.

On Tuesday evening we unloaded Young Master Gateau on his grandma, and we were hankering for sushi, so we decided to take Mr. Gateau's dad and stepmother out to thank them for all their babysitting help. We had always enjoyed Octopus' Garden in Kitsilano, but it's become a bit of a family joke that every year when we visit, they are somehow closed when we want to go. This time we made it, and we had a delicious meal, but it wasn't what we had expected. Sometime in the last few years, they have changed their menu from traditional sushi to the trendy "Japanese tapas" with an emphasis on order the chef's omakase, which as far as I can tell from eyeballing the table next to us just means they serve you basically all the dishes on the regular menu.

For the table we ordered: the special miso soup (which I did not have, opting instead for a sunomono-style seaweed salad), foie gras nigiri (which was delicious, but I'm not sure entirely worth it), tempura "fish and chips" with yam fries, spicy tuna mango roll (excellent), a "risky business" roll of smoked and fresh sockeye salmon with asparagus and avocado, and a fancy version of a California roll, plus probably something I'm forgetting.

As I said before, this was all really good, but it adds a level of fussiness and foodieness to food that at its best leverages pure simplicity to let the tremendous quality of the ingredients available in B.C. to take center stage. This is the second of our favorite traditional sushi places in Vancouver to go in this direction, and we're a little at sea with respect to knowing where to get plain old regular, but good quality, sushi in Vancouver with a pleasant ambiance.

Next post will tell you all about one of the best (and most expensive) meals I've ever had, or probably ever will have: Mr. & Mrs. Gateau unload their kids and go to Lumiere.

Eating to Oblivion

The Gateaux and I have just returned from our annual vacation to Vancouver, where we did little other than eat everything in sight. Without going into excruciating detail right this minute, I will say that we covered the gamut from dim sum to sushi to a seven course tasting menu to Greek to Mexican to family dinner at home.

I will note that Vancouver has incredibly good food, but the dining trends seem to run a few years behind New York and L.A., and when they fall for a trend, they really commit. So it's gotten easy to find Japanese "tapas" with things like foie gras nigiri, tempura "fish and chips" and mango-spicy tuna rolls (all delicious, by the way), it's getting harder and harder to find nice traditional sushi. And our formerly cheap vacation has been rather undermined by the decline of the U.S. dollar, so you're paying top price for those bits of rice and fish. Even the local bars tend to tart things up in a foodie sort of way. Not that it's bad that there's all this attention to good eating, but it did make me long a bit for a plain old burger or steak.